Day 5, Dry Creek to Porter's Gap

When the rain stopped at 2 a.m., I decided I had worried too much. That was until the rain started again, and this time, it didn’t stop. It continued until 7:30 a.m.

Now I knew the creek crossings ahead would be difficult. When I exited my tent, it was splattered in mud. I was just glad the creek hadn't forced us to pack up overnight and move.

Based on the comments I read in the FarOut app, I didn’t expect the first crossing to be difficult. That turned out to be true. The water was barely higher than our ankles.

The second crossing was another story.

That stream was just a few yards beyond the first crossing. A cascade of water gushed down a slope to our right, overflowing the creek bed it normally followed.

The strong current wasn’t just intimidating. We couldn’t see an obvious place to safely cross because of it. So much silt was churned up in the water we couldn't see the bottom. There was no way to tell how deep the creek was or where there were rocks we might stumble over.

If we were here yesterday, the water would have been much lower. Instead, we needed to spend several minutes scouting for the safest route before carefully fording across the rushing water. My legs were completely below the water’s surface.

For obvious reasons, I didn't stop to snap a photo. I remained focused and took slow, deliberate steps. After a precarious couple of minutes, we both safely made it to the other side.

The trail then took us around Jogloma-Scott Lake. I assumed it was a manmade reservoir but couldn’t see the dam to know for sure. I decided it must have been where the cascade of water poured into the creek.

A minute or two later, I saw the ruins of a foundation. Now I knew the area had been inhabited years ago, but I didn’t know anything else about it. No signage was nearby to explain the lake or foundation, and the app and map offered no clues.

I didn't learn until later that Alabama officials acquired this land in 1856 while working on a plan to extend the Alabama and Tennessee Railroad through the region. Perhaps because of the Civil War, the rail line was never built.

The state attempted to sell the land in 1931, but a buyer didn’t come forward until 1945. He was a mechanic from Talladega named O. C. "Offie” Scott, and he paid $59.

In the next few years, Scott turned the area into a recreation spot for his family. He built a road, three cabins, and a 200-foot earthen dam on the creek. That’s how the lake came to be. The name he gave the lake, Jogloma, was made with letters from the names of his wife and their two daughters.

The U.S. Forest Service acquired the land in the early 1970s and there was talk of turning the lake into a public recreational site. Just like the railroad extension, however, the plan never moved forward.

Ironically, we passed a large, flat campsite near the lake. If we had camped there last night, we wouldn't have risked being swept downstream while crossing the creek this morning.

I learned later from my research about the lake that a hiker shelter might be built on this spot. The proposal is included in a master plan for the Pinhoti Trail that was written in 2019 for the Alabama Trails Foundation.

Only time will tell if the shelter is another idea that never goes anywhere.

Porter's Gap was at State Highway 77. We arrived there at 10:40 a.m. After making our way to a parking area at a trailhead, we called Next Step Hostel.

The hostel's owners are Jeff and Nancy Hayes. Within a few minutes, Nancy arrived to drive us to Talladega.

The hostel was in a cabin, one of three buildings on the property. In it were beds, a small kitchen, and a washer and dryer to do our clothes. A couple of showers were located outside.

Tengo and I knew there weren’t many other hikers on the trail, and our stay here confirmed that. We had the hostel to ourselves. We hung our tents and other wet gear outside on the cabin's porch to dry.

When we finished getting cleaned up, Jeff gave us the key to his truck, and we left to get some lunch and shop at Walmart. I didn’t need to resupply because I had mailed a box of food to the hostel, but Tengo did.

Although the "surgery" I performed on my shoes yesterday helped my feet, they were still sore. I bought Epsom salt and lidocaine cream to give them some relief.

After we returned to the hostel, we sat on the porch with Jeff. I soaked my feet in an Epsom salt bath while we chatted for a long time. He told us he and Nancy thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2014. That experience inspired them to give back to the hiking community by opening a hostel for Pinhoti Trail hikers.

Remarkably, Nancy and Jeff don’t charge a fee for staying in the hostel or for the rides they give to and from the trail. Tengo and I agreed we should leave a donation before we left tomorrow.

The start of the day was a little rough, but that was all in the past. Now we were comfortable and dry. When another brief storm passed through late in the day, it left behind a double rainbow.

The trail showed a lack of concern for our well-being this morning. We had to deal with a treacherous stream crossing on our own. Yet also today, we experienced again how the way the trail community helps one another. That included the unexpected use of a truck to run errands.

The trail doesn’t care. The trail provides. Isn’t it remarkable how both can be true?